A Doctor to Remember. Joanna Neil

mozzarella cheese, tomato and peppers, along with a crisp side salad.

      He came back holding a tray laden with glass tumblers and a jug of mixed red fruit juice topped with slices of apple, lemon and orange.

      ‘I can bring you some wine, if you prefer,’ he said, sitting down opposite her. ‘I can’t have any myself in case I have to go out on a job.’

      ‘No, this will be fine,’ she told him. ‘It looks wonderful.’

      ‘It is. Wait till you taste it.’

      The food was good, and the juice, which had a hint of sparkling soda water in it, was even better than it looked. ‘This has been a real treat for me,’ she said a little later, when they’d finished a simple dessert of ice cream and fresh raspberries. ‘Everything was delicious.’ She mused on that for a moment. ‘I don’t remember when someone last prepared a meal for me.’

      ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ He sent her a sideways glance. ‘Actually, Annie made meals for both of us sometimes—whenever you came over here to visit she would cook, or put out buffet-style food, or occasionally she would ask me to organise the barbecue so that we could eat outside and enjoy the summer evenings. Sometimes she would ask the neighbours to join us.’ He watched her carefully. ‘Don’t you have any memory of that?’

      ‘No…’ She tried to think about it, grasping at fleeting images with her mind, but in the end she had to admit defeat. Then a stray vision came out of nowhere, and she said quickly, ‘Except—there was one time…I think I’d been out somewhere—to work, or to see friends—then somehow I was back here and everything was wrong.’

      He straightened up, suddenly taut and a bit on edge. Distracted, she sent him a bewildered glance. ‘I don’t know what happened, but the feelings are all mixed up inside me. I know I was desperately unhappy and I think Aunt Annie put her arms around me to comfort me.’ She frowned. ‘How can I not remember? It’s as though I’m distracted all the while, all over the place in my head. Why am I like this?’

      It was a plea for help and he said softly, ‘You probably feel that way because it’s as though part of you is missing. Your mind is still the one bit of you that needs to heal. And perhaps deep down, for some reason, you’re rejecting what’s already there, hidden inside you. Give it time. Don’t try so hard, and I expect it’ll come back to you in a few weeks or months.’

      ‘Weeks or months…when am I ever going to get back to normal?’ There was a faint thread of despair in her voice. ‘I should be working, earning a living, but how do I do that when I don’t even know what it’s like to be a doctor?’

      He didn’t answer. His phone rang at that moment, cutting through their conversation, and she noticed that the call came on a different mobile from his everyday phone. He immediately became alert.

      ‘It’s a job,’ he said, when he had finished speaking to Ambulance Control, ‘so I have to go. I’m sorry to leave you, Saffi, but I’m the nearest responder.’

      ‘Do you know what it is, what’s happened?’

      He nodded. ‘A six-year-old boy has been knocked down by a car. The paramedics are asking for a doctor to attend.’ He stood up, grim-faced, and made to walk across the terrace, but then he stopped and looked back at her. He made as if to say something and then stopped.

      ‘What is it?’ she asked.

      He shook his head. ‘It’s nothing.’

      He made to turn away again and she said quickly, ‘Tell me what’s on your mind, please.’

      ‘I wondered if you might want to come with me? It might be good for you to be out there again, to get a glimpse of the working world. Then again, this might not be the best call out for you, at this time.’ He frowned. ‘It could be bad.’

      She hesitated, overwhelmed by a moment of panic, a feeling of dread that ripped through her, but he must have read her thoughts because he said in a calm voice, ‘You wouldn’t have to do anything. Just observe.’

      She sucked in a deep breath. ‘All right. I’ll do it.’ It couldn’t be so bad if she wasn’t called on to make any decisions, could it? But this was a young child…that alone was enough to make her balk at the prospect. Should she change her mind?

      Matt was already heading out to the garage, and she hurried after him. This was no time to be dithering.

      They slid into the seats of the rapid-response vehicle, a car that came fully equipped for emergency medical situations, and within seconds Matt had set the sat nav and was driving at speed towards the scene of the accident. He switched on the flashing blue light and the siren and Saffi tried to keep a grip on herself. All she had to do was observe, he’d said. Nothing more. She repeated it to herself over and over, as if by doing that she would manage to stay calm.

      ‘This is the place.’

      Saffi took in everything with a glance. A couple of policemen were here, questioning bystanders and organising traffic diversions. An ambulance stood by, its rear doors open, and a couple of paramedics hid her view of the injured child. A woman was there, looking distraught. Saffi guessed she was the boy’s mother.

      Matt was out of the car within seconds, grabbing his kit, along with a monitor and paediatric bag.

      With a jolt, Saffi realised that she recognised the equipment. That was a start, at least. But he was already striding purposefully towards his patient, and Saffi quickly followed him.

      Her heart turned over when she saw the small boy lying in the road. He was only six…six years old. This should never be happening.

      After a brief conversation with the paramedics, Matt crouched down beside the child. ‘How are you doing?’ he asked the boy.

      The child didn’t answer. He was probably in shock. His eyes were open, though, and Matt started to make a quick examination.

      ‘My leg…don’t touch my leg!’ The boy suddenly found his voice, and Matt acknowledged that with a small intake of breath. It was a good sign that he was conscious and lucid.